So I thought maybe it would be best to restart our adventures with a little update.
I have a new puppy. His name is Mulligan and he is a wrecking ball wrapped in fur; a rat terrier-lab mix soooo let's think about what he looks like: a tiny giraffe with a huge head. It bobbles and he runs like that special kid in gym class with the one leg that juts out (for more speed and power?) He is a guffaw. But I love him. He makes me laugh and the Seniors hate his guts. He towers over them at a whopping 30 pounds versus their combined weight of 25. It is official. I run a circus. I love it...most of the time.
His favorite hobbies are: biting Birdie's toes until she bites his face and he plays victim; whining and crying to Mommie, laying innocently on his side near Winston until Winston falls asleep, then :"swimming~ sidestroke" over; every so silently to punch Winston in the face. He steals socks; EVERYONE'S socks. He believes that there is another dog we keep locked up in the fireplace as well as in the bathroom (the one with the mirrored wall) that he needs to bark at and scold. He has not grasped the concept of sliding doors ~ smacks into them regularly. He cannot appreciate that everything is not fair game for chewing, eating, licking or smacking with his tennis ball sized feet or oversized mouth.
We got Mulli to put a little spring in the step of my seniors. The only high stepping going on is Birdie who lets him know hourly with "stink eye", hissing, or cage-match worthy wrestling moves that SHE and ONLY SHE rules the roost.
Winston... He sits and mopes with his four teeth and white face. He shouts at Mulli and snarls and spits with all the ferocity of the wolf the TV commercials say he is a descendant of ... buuuuut.. mmmm.... nope. He still looks like a naked, little angry Russian. I imagine him just yelling "MORE WODKA COMMRADE!" and glaring at everyone from the bushes as he poops.
Work has been a little less than fun so I thought I would take the toddlers and head up to the lake. We are planning some parties and will need to get some chores done. Peace, quiet... I couldn't wait, so after work I tossed them all in ~ it's a nice thing being the leader of the vampires and working until midnight because when I do head to the lake...no traffic. We got here, had breakfast and took naps. All was right in everyone's world. I went across the way to chat with my neighbors as it was cocktail hour. I love my neighbors. I looked at my watch and said "ooo better go.." because one thing the baby has taught me; it's that he has a SET schedule. Potties are at 6am, 9am, 5pm and 9pm. I came home at 4:53pm.
Mulligan apparently made a change to the schedule without notice. Lovely rug brownie. Fabulous. He is cowering and wagging his tale "sorry" so I point my finger and shake my head. Everyone heads for jail. This is not a good sign. So now it is a "bad" scavenger hunt.
Birdie got upstairs and pulled all the laundry out of the basket, rolled in it and chewed up my propers. Really? I loved those panties. You witch.
I sigh and clean it up... heyyyyy it's damp
SURPRISE Mommie! Winston decided that he wanted the laundry basket for himself; so he signed his name on it. Oh and on the sofa. Oh and on the bathroom door Oh and on Mulli's cage...Really Pal? You weigh less than fifteen pounds. Where is it coming from?
I am now grumbling and glaring. I stomp down the steps and hit the kitchen
SURPRISE Mommie! The three stooges have broken in to the pantry and helped themselves to kibble, a piece of chocolate, my favorite flavored coffee and some cocoa mix.
I spin around like I'm ready to battle the devil himself and find three little amigos standing there wagging and wiggling, hoping I will be SUPER happy with the decorative modifications they efficiently made during my absence; one with sticks from the wood pile hanging from his face and the breath of one delICIOUS flavored coffee ~ hints of hazelnut and mocha I believe, another with toilet tissue stuck to her chin and the third with dropping eyes food wrappers tucked under his chin like a mafioso sitting down to Sunday lasagna.
THAT IS IT! I hiss and point to jail. Everyone slinks in and gives me the last hopeful wag as I slam the doors and say mean things they don't understand about gypsies and selling and countries that EAT dogs....
I go into the pub and click on the television. I just want to sit and relax; watch a bad movie and ... I jump up like I've been bit in the arse.
There are teeny fragments of kindling from the woodpile all over the couch.
i will love them ... later.
Thanks for coming over. I hope to see you again soon. It feels nice to be here with you.